


Sadness of a Woman

by le_chat_vilain



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Bittersweet, Feels, Fluff, Gen, Happy, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 00:18:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3670413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/le_chat_vilain/pseuds/le_chat_vilain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An old man, Bard reminisces about his wife and gets an unexpected visitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sadness of a Woman

**Author's Note:**

> To quote Ron Weasley: "You're gonna suffer...but you're gonna be happy about it."
> 
> This was a request I got through Tumblr for a fic to the song Sadness of a Woman by Russell Crowe, Danielle Spencer, and Alan Doyle. I just gave Bard's wife the first name that popped into my head.
> 
> This is my first attempt at writing Bard, so I hope people like it!

 

He stood on the ramparts, gazing across the old battlefield towards the lonely mountain, past its peak and into the crisp star studded sky beyond. An old man now, the years had taken their toll and his fingers ached in the cold as he laced them together and leaned his elbows on the stone. His hands shook, even though he was trying his hardest to steady them, dizziness setting in along with a shortness of breath. The episodes had been happening more and more frequently, and the physicians had yet to find a cause. Thranduil had offered to help him many times, but Bard had always been too proud to accept. He had never felt this weak; perhaps next time the elf asked he would not be so hasty to turn him down. In any case, there were other things on his mind today.

 

All these years and he had never stopped loving her. He still could smell her perfume on the air sometimes, a breath of lavender and sage that would envelop him in times of hardship. It reminded him of her touch, the way she could calm him with the gentlest of embraces. It reminded him of her smile, the way it spread into her eyes. She had hated the little creases that appeared when she did it but he never saw them as anything less than perfect, just like the rest of her.

 

If she could see him now, forty years later, standing here the King of Dale. Their children married to good, kind spouses and with children of their own. Her face would light up brighter than the glow of the arkenstone if she could see it. All these years and he had never stopped missing her. He had never let her go. Perhaps he should have, perhaps she would have wanted him to, but he never had the courage. She had always been his weakness.

 

Footsteps approached from his left. Assuming that it was just Sigrid coming to check on him, he did not bother to look in their direction. That was when he smelt it: lavender and sage. The air around him was suddenly colder, and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He turned his head slowly and could scarcely believe what he saw.

 

“Hello stranger.”

 

She was there but she wasn’t. It sounded like her, smelt like her, smiled like her, but he knew the shimmering silver apparition was surely his ailing mind playing tricks on him. She was dead, long dead. A translucent hand reached out to stroke his cheek and all doubt in his mind was erased. He knew that touch, this calmness, there was no mistaking it.

 

“Brigitte?”

 

“You look like hell, my love.”

 

For the first time in decades he heard her laugh again, and he couldn’t help but laugh with her. He had never forgotten the sound, but hearing it again made his heart skip a beat, just like when they were teenagers.

 

“And you look as beautiful as the day I met you. How…how are you here?”

 

She gave him that look she always did when she thought he ought to know the answer to his own question and shook her head.

 

“I have always been here with you. Don’t tell me you did not know?”

 

It was true, he had always felt her near, like she was watching over him and guiding him every step of the way. A few times he had even thought he’d seen her, but chalked it up to the drink or a trick of the light.

 

“It was you, in Laketown, when Bain and I…”

 

“Who did you think it was, darling?”

 

Turning to face her, he wished nothing more than to be able to take her into his arms again. To kiss her, hold her, feel her warmth.

 

“Why now, why do I only see you now after all this time?”

 

A sad smile spread across her lips and she placed her hand on his where it rested on the rail.

 

“You should have let that pretty elf lord help you, darling.”

 

She need not say any more, he caught her meaning right away. His time was nearly up. This sickness would be the thing to take him from this world and into the next, the thing that would reunite him with her.

 

“I’ve never been more glad that I did not.”

 

“Always so brave. I…I have to go now, I cannot sustain this form for much longer.”

 

“Promise me you will come for me, when it's time?”

 

“Of course, my love.”

 

She leant forward and he felt the cool tingle of her lips on his. They lingered there for a fleeting moment, and when he opened his eyes she was gone. He breathed a heavy, rattling sigh, and found comfort in knowing the sun was setting on his time and that he would finally join her soon. He had lived a long, full life, and he had no regrets of which to speak. He was ready. As he turned back toward the city, he heard her voice on the breeze.

 

_I love you. See you soon, stranger._

 

“I love you too.”

 


End file.
